


Jus ad Bellum

by astrangerfate, orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Discipline, Episode: s03e12 Jus In Bello, Other, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-04
Updated: 2008-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerfate/pseuds/astrangerfate, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam isn't happy with his brother's recklessness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jus ad Bellum

**Author's Note:**

> Response to a 3.12 spanking fic challenge; the idea was a friend's. This fic involves Dean Winchester being spanked by his younger brother. If that bothers you, why are you still reading?

Sam held out his hand for Dean’s keys as they approached the Impala.

“Aw, come on, Sammy, I can drive—” Dean began, but Sam cut him short.

“Not with that shoulder, you can’t,” he retorted. “Hand them over.” Dean rolled his eyes and relinquished the keys, sending Sam a nasty glare as he climbed into the passenger’s seat. Sam started up the engine and they headed out in silence.

“Well, that was pretty kickass,” Dean said finally. Sam could hear the grin in his brother’s voice. “We’re legally dead again, kicked some major demon ass—”

“Yeah, about that, Dean,” Sam said, annoyance creeping into his voice. “That was some pretty heavy combat you were getting into with Henrickson. How did that work out with your arm?”

Dean pursed his lips. “Well, you know, that Nancy girl did a pretty good job patching me up—” he fumbled, but Sam wasn’t buying it. Dean was shit at keeping secrets from him, and it was painfully obvious what his brother had done, anyway.

“That bullet _ripped through your shoulder_ , Dean,” he pointed out, aware that he was close to yelling. “You took a hell of a lot of damage and then you were swinging guns and holy water like it was nothing. There’s no way a little bandaging took care of that and you know it!”

Dean shifted in his seat. “Yeah, well, so I might have grabbed a painkiller when I was getting stuff from the trunk. I mean, can you blame me?”

“One painkiller, Dean?” Sam shot his brother an exasperated look.

“Okay, more than one painkiller!” Dean said defensively. “Look, I needed to be able to fight! I wouldn’t be much help to you with one arm, would I? And it was kind of important to get out of this one alive, I think.”

“How many pills did you take, Dean?” Sam demanded.

“Well, two’s still a normal dose!”

“But you didn’t take two, did you?” Dean stared out the windshield. ” _Did you,_ Dean?”

“I got us out of there alive,” Dean said finally. “I’d say it’s worth it.”

“Dean!”

“Okay, okay!” Dean always caved under pressure. “So maybe I took a few, but…”

“Do you even know?” Sam asked, disgusted.

“I…uhhh, I think around seven.” Dean flashed his best optimistic smile at his brother. Sam didn’t return it, and the smile faded. “Well, what was I supposed to do, Sammy? Just take the pain while I was firing? Cause that sure as hell would have helped my aim! I don’t think so.”

“No, Dean, the problem is you don’t think at all!” Sam glanced in the rearview mirror. Nothing. He pulled over to the side of the road. “You ignore the pain, deaden it, you’ll probably injure it further because you don’t know your limits. Did that even occur to you?”

“I was more focused on getting out of there alive, Sam, thanks,” Dean said shortly. “I’d already been shot, Nancy fixed it up the best she could, and if those people are alive because I could actually sling holy water at those sons of bitches instead of sitting around like dead weight, I don’t care.”

“Oh, yeah? Then how about the side effects?”

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to respond. He settled for picking at a cuticle instead, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

“It slows your reaction time, impairs your depth perception and your judgment, and that’s in normal doses! Did you stop to consider that you might sling the holy water at Henrickson? Or me? How about the rock salt? Did you think about how your aim could be off?”

“Look, okay, so maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do,” Dean said finally. “But we were running kinda low on options, Sam!”

“It was reckless endangerment, Dean.” Sam said flatly.

His brother gave an exasperated sigh. “Oh, no, Sam. No. No way in hell are you doing that. I’m freakin’ injured!”

“You didn’t seem to care about that when you were fighting off those demons,” Sam said firmly. “And I’m not planning on damaging your shoulder. I think you’ve done enough of that for tonight.”

“Come _on_!” Dean whined. “I had to help you out, Sammy, I couldn’t just sit back and watch with you outnumbered like that, and…”

“And you should have thought about the risks before you did something stupid like overdose on Vicodin.” Sam watched his brother’s jaw set as he tried to come up with a suitable response. “Your rules, Dean. Something that could injure yourself or others, remember? What would you do if I tried something that stupid?”

“Okay, fine,” Dean groaned. He dropped his head into his right head, massaging his temples. “Do you want to…do it now?” he asked, looking skeptically out at the deserted highway.

“I’m not going to spank you until that painkiller wears off,” Sam said, watching Dean’s cheeks turn pink. “Not much of a punishment when you’re still hopped up on drugs.”

Dean grimaced. “You’re gonna make me wait?” he asked, disbelieving. “Jesus, Sam, that’s just cruel.”

“You know something, Dean, I don’t want to hear it,” Sam said, pulling back onto the highway. “I’m not stopping until we hit Cheyenne. And if I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut. Maybe try to get some sleep.” Unless Sam was mistaken, Dean would be out like a light.

Dean smirked like he wanted to say something sarcastic, but Sam’s black look made him sink down in the passenger seat instead. His right hand crept unconsciously to his ass and he swallowed hard. Sam shook his head, trying to lose the tension in his neck and shoulders. He had thought he’d taken care of his brother’s stupid hero act back when he tried to tackle “vamped-out” Gordon alone, but apparently this was one lesson that he had trouble getting through Dean’s head.

Apparently he would have to get creative.

***

“So next time? We go with my plan.”

Ruby turned on her heel and stalked out of the motel room, leaving Sam and Dean staring after her. Sam watched his brother flinch and go pale.

“We couldn’t have known, Dean,” he said lamely.

“I fucked up,” Dean said hoarsely. “I fuck up everything.” He stared blankly at the papers lying on the bedside table, abandoned at Ruby’s entrance. _I will not endanger myself or others._ The words ran front and back along three pages and a quarter of the way down a fourth.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam repeated. “We did the best we could, given the information we had. We couldn’t have known, given what we were up against.”

Dean heaved a sigh. “War is total, I guess.” He paused. “I fucking hate this, not knowing what the hell we’re up against, what it’s worth to us.”

“How many lines have you got?” Sam asked softly.

“I guess 150,” Dean said listlessly.

That was half of what Sam had told him to get done. “Finish the front of the page and we’ll call it even,” he directed. They could both use some sleep.

***

When Sam woke up the next morning, Dean was sitting on the side of his bed, wearing an undershirt and boxers. He was drumming his fingers nervously against the floral bedspread, but he straightened immediately when he saw that Sam was awake.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said, and the words were quiet enough that Sam knew they were sincere. Dean was recognizing he’d screwed up, and he wanted more than anything else for it to be behind them. “I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry.”

Sam nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.” He surveyed his brother. Dean’s left arm hung limp against his side, and he was fidgeting slightly as he waited for whatever Sam was going to do next.

There was no point in dragging it out. There was no way he trusted himself to take Dean over his knee, not with his shoulder like that, but he had a feeling Dean would have wanted a harder punishment anyway. They both needed the catharsis after everything they’d been through.

“Bring me your belt,” he said, and Dean’s eyes widened but he jumped up immediately and went to his duffel. He didn’t try to talk his way out of the punishment, just handed the leather strap to Sam and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“The bed’s a little short to bend over,” he offered. “I, uh…thought maybe I should just lie on my stomach.”

Dean knew the drill. They’d both been in this position a few times growing up, and Sam watched in silence as his brother carefully placed himself on the bed, slender hips propped up against the flat hotel pillows. Dean turned his head to one side, refusing to look at Sam. Sam sighed and brought a pillow from his own bed, gently sliding it under Dean’s arm to cushion it from any sudden movements. They both ignored the action, the way Dean’s neck relaxed.

“Do you know why you’re getting this spanking, Dean?” Sam asked, stepping up beside the bed and looking down at Dean’s clenched muscles and bare legs.

He half-expected Dean to snarl something about how Sam just wanted to touch his ass, but the response was again quiet and earnest. “I screwed up. I put myself in danger, put you and everyone else in that police station in danger. It was a dumb move.”

“Drugging yourself up is never a good idea, especially when you’re fighting,” Sam said for good measure. “Just use your head next time and you’ll realize there are better options that won’t jeopardize the entire battle.”

Dean nodded tightly and Sam brought the belt down across the cloth-covered backside. Dean hissed through his teeth. Good. He should be feeling this.

Sam paced himself, swinging slowly, allowing Dean time to catch his breath between the smarting blows. He watched as the tension left his brother’s frame, replaced by hitching breaths and shaking shoulders. Dean broke down after a few minutes of the belt cracking down, and Sam could see the moment when Dean gave in, covering his face with his right arm so that Sam couldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

“You could have hurt someone, fighting like that,” Sam said plainly. “You could have hurt yourself pretty damn badly too. I don’t want to see that happen again. Am I clear?”

“Absolutely,” Dean replied, his voice catching.

Sam laid three quick strokes across Dean’s thighs, watching the skin color angrily. He placed the belt deliberately on the small table, across the lines Dean had written the night before.

“I’m not going to lose you because of a stupid mistake,” he said finally, aware that there were tears in his eyes.

“So sweet, Sammy,” Dean groaned, pulling himself up with one arm and cringing as his hot skin made contact with the bed. He stood up hastily, and Sam pulled him into a hug, as tight as he dared with Dean’s stitches. Dean hugged back with his good arm, placing his head against Sam’s shoulder for a moment before they broke apart.

“So…we’re good?” he asked hopefully. Dean always needed the reassurance to know that he had been forgiven, just like he needed to be punished in order to forgive himself.

Sam nodded. “We’re good.” He slapped Dean’s ass and his brother _whimpered,_ which probably shouldn’t have been as funny as it was. “Now get your ass into the shower. I’m going for coffee.” They could regroup later, reevaluate what they knew about Lilith, where to go from here. The time apart could clear both their heads and get them back in the game. Back in action.


End file.
